THE PERMANENT TRIP
Ken Micallef - ALTERNATIVE PRESS – 1993

 Matt Johnson embraces the sleazy while seeking the spiritual.

‘Everybody knows what’s going wrong with the world, but I don’t even know what’s going on in myself.’  Sings Matt Johnson on The The’s latest recording, ‘Dusk’.  This catchy hook from ‘Slow Emotion Replay’ cogently sums up Johnson’s outlook on problems both external and internal.

Four years ago on Mind Bomb the slight Englishman mixed tales of personal searching and political outrage into powerful pop anthems. On the skiffle-rockabilly jaunt, ‘Armegeddon Days (Are Here Again).’  Johnson snarled prophetically of religious turmoil: ‘Islam Is rising/The Christians mobilising/The world is on it’s elbows and knees/It’s forgotten the message and worships the creeds’.  On The Beat(en) Generation,’ a sing-a-long folk ditty, he addressed deceived youth:  ‘The beat(en) generation/Reared on a diet of prejudice and misinformation/The youth are being seduced by greedy hands of politics and half truths’.  Soul Mining (’84) and Infected (’86) likewise revealed a caustic social activist with the soul of a great songwriter.

Suddenly popular in both England and the U.S. Johnson was thrust into a spotlight he detested.  He’d rather relax and think while pruning the apricot bushes around his home on the coast of Italy. And that’s exactly what he’s done for the past four years, while soul searching and working on his new record.

Dusk is The The’s most personal and explosive record. Lurching through the speakers like a demented, hellfire – spitting preacher. Johnson’s voice has taken a new depth. But the overt politics have been left to Chuck D.  This is music of deep introspection and tempered hope.  With songs like ‘Love Is Stronger Than Death’, ‘True Happiness’, and ‘Slow Emotion Replay.’  Johnson finally enters into the realm of songwriting greatness.  And Johnny Marr, Dave Palmer, James Eller, and D.C.Collard are still helping Johnson flesh out his music.

Inspired by John Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band, Chuck D, Howlin’ Wolf and Tim Buckley,  Johnson strove for simplicity.

‘The purpose of this album was to be as direct as possible, using very simple, poetic lyrics.’  Johnson speaks with difficulty, like a man unaccustomed to using spoken words as a means of expression.  ‘Therefore, the songs don’t leave much room for misinterpretation.  I wanted to be as literal as possible. You’ve got to understand what it is you want to say with a song and that can be the hardest thing for me.  That’s why people use music as a performance medium – there is a certain vagueness there.  If you  could be that concise, prose would be a more precise way to communicate something.  But music transcends that, it gets into feelings and atmospheres’.

His thoughts wander as he gazes out over a huge, panoramic view of New York’s Central Park.

‘I’ve had some strange experiences where dreams – they’re like a sixth sense aren’t they? The atmosphere. That’s why you can never really describe a dream to someone.  Like when you smell a familiar scent, it takes you back to a place or a piece of music.  Often you can think back to a dream and try to recreate that atmosphere in you mind.  Dreams from years ago have been coming back to me.  I’ve been thinking about  them in a very clear way.  My dream state seems to be interfering with my waking life.  It’s quite pleasant actually.  I’m not sure why it’s happening, or how to stop it.  Or even if I want to stop it.  But it’s getting a bit strange. Often I’ll be in a bar or in a taxi and things will begin to turn dreamlike. It’s cheaper than drugs!

Though Dusk’s cover depicts a ‘screaming head in hell over a city skyline’, the music sounds more like a cunning Jesuit musing from the monastery.  Johnson deflects such thoughts.  ‘I don’t think there is a distinction between spiritual and material life.  People try to put themselves on a pedestal by talking about spirituality but we’re all spiritual beings and we’re all in this world.  Music has become a lot more politicised with rap and all the rest of it…I’m leaving them to it.  I got bored being political.  You’ve got to believe in what you do.  In a way, I felt I was skating on thin ice. The more experiences I have in life the more I become conscious of  my own ignorance.  I’m not sure if I know anything.  All I know is what I feel and I’m not even sure of that half the time.

‘And because of this weird dreamlike state that keeps descending of me…  I don’t think everything is what it seems, for all of us.  Human life is so short and transient; we’re here in a flash and the world operates on a linear scale. I don’t see that we really know anything or see anything. We just judge things in our own way.’

So, to try and understand more has Johnson adopted a Ghandi-like discipline?  Abstaining from the lusts of the flesh to concentrate on a loftier vision?

‘No’, he laughs. ‘I’ve embraced my lusts and the sleazy things in life. To go with the flow, that’s a certain Taoist view of things. Rather than fighting it,  I’m not becoming disillusioned but increasingly bemused. Over the past 15 years I’ve experimented liberally with drugs, sex, alternative forms of health and medicine. They’ve all changed and added to me but I still have not found what I’m searching for.

Things are more complex than you realise. There are no easy solutions to the world’s problems. Things have to work themselves out. Maybe it’s being passive to be active. In moments of stillness and contemplation often that’s when you can evoke the greatest change. Various things have happened to me that have brought me to my knees, really.  So I’ve had no choice but to sit back and think about things.

With all this serious talk and reflection, and Johnson’s typical long internments between albums, one could easily see him quitting show biz for a life of thought.  Scrawny and pale, he seems more suited to an author’s life than the rigors of schmoozing that deplete many rock and rollers.  But Johnson is unsure of his future, talking of retiring one minute while musing about songwriting the next.

‘It’s possible I might not return,’  he says. ‘I’m actually thinking about stopping. I want to go and live in India.  Apparently, being close to the Himalayas you really get a sense of being close to the source. I’ve heard that being in Katmandu gives you the sense of being close to something very powerful.  I don’t think I’ll pull a Cat Stevens though.  I won’t turn into Yusef Johnson or Mattie Islam. My ambition is to be a great songwriter.  I’d  be quite happy not to give another interview as long as I was creating.  It’s important to feel you’re fulfilling you sense of purpose’.

Matt Johnson and The The’s days of being the bellringer, of smashing the political metal against the wall, are over.  Perhaps the most personal songs are also the most political ones.  Those sentiments ring throughout Dusk.  ‘If you can’t change the world, change yourself.’ He croons, over a soothing Pepsi Generation melody.

‘The only true freedom is freedom from the hearts desires, and the only true happiness… this way lies.’

‘I used to read all these books, get all this information, be in a state of perpetual angst about the state of the world.  But you’re just a little blip.  It’s like trying to command the tides. There are natural energies at work. Human beings and societies are just the visible aspects of these energies.

‘The more experiences I get, I realise I know less and less and less.  Some days I know, sometimes, when those dreams descend…I think I did too much LSD when I was young.  I’m probably on a permanent acid trip.  We’re all getting closer to where we’re supposed to go, either in this world or the next.  As long as you keep experiencing things, you’re on a progressive move upwards.  Every experience you have will enrich you and push you farther up the spiral.